Dimapur, February 24 (TNN): Dr Yangerla from Mokokchung and Rakhila Lakhiumong from Tuensang didn’t just stand for election in Nagaland yesterday, they stood at the intersection of Naga society and democracy. Faced with a near-absence of women in electoral practices and an upcoming Supreme Court order on reservations for women in the state, Nagaland is headed for a complicated conversation about its own customary practices.
Naga society is extraordinarily structured. Every village has its own gaonbura (a council of elders), a village council, a women’s wing, a youth organisation and a “gazetted officers’ association”, at the very least, each with its own office-bearers with a fixed tenure, and regular meetings.
But when residents speak of someone being “elected” to any of these bodies, they aren’t talking of full elections with universal adult franchise. Members of these bodies are in most cases selected by consensus, some villages have devised mini electoral colleges, and in others there are nomination committees. And crucially, women are absent from the village and tribe’s apex decisionmaking bodies. Women are not “invited” to attend the council’s meetings even; privately, the women say that they are expected not to attend.
These traditional structures, in addition to the legal protection Article 371 (A) of the Constitution gives to customary law in the state lead to both the near-absence of women in electoral politics, and the massive resistance to a move to reserve a third of seats in urban local bodies for women.
Unsurprisingly, Nagas bristle at the suggestion that they are resisting democratic practices; their resistance, they say, is to the “type of democracy”. Few mainland Indians realise the strength of Naga identity and the anger and resentment in Nagaland against the Indian state for what is seen as its imperialism — political, military and cultural. So for many Nagas, conventions of parliamentary democracy, like universal adult franchise and quotas for women, are unacceptable primarily because they are practices of the Indian state and its Constitution.
Late one night, a group of young, educated Ao men in Mokokchung explain why they are opposed to reservation for women. “I don’t have a passport because I refuse to state my identity as ‘Indian’. My nationality is Naga, not Indian,” says a young journalist who does not want to be named. He has also never voted and never will, he says. “Our way of taking decisions may seem wrong to an Indian, but it works for us. We trust our elders to decide what is best, and don’t need everyone to vote for everything. If women feel a need for greater representation in decision-making, it will evolve slowly, in our own culture,” he says.
“I believe in female empowerment. I will vote for Dr Yangerla (Mokokchung’s lone female candidate), but because she is opposed to reservation,” another explains.
“Naga society does not discriminate,” is usually the first line that any question on the need for expanding franchise and representation is met with. “Nagaland is a classless society. It does not have the problems of caste and discrimination that India has. When there is no discrimination, then why do we need reservation?” asks K G Kenye, a former minister and now general secretary of the ruling Naga People’s Front.
Needless to say, many women are not impressed by what they see as the figleaf of tradition being used to preserve patriarchy. “Reservation for women has nothing to do with the Indian state, and even less to do with Naga customary law,” says Rosemary Dzuvichu, a professor of English at Nagaland University and an advisor to the Naga Mothers’ Association (NMA), part of the Joint Action Committee of the women’s organisations of 16 Naga tribes who have taken the matter to the Supreme Court.
For one, says Dzuvichu, affirmative action is a common tool used to advance the equality of women across the world, and is not an Indian invention. Then, the NMA, points out, not only is customary law often violated — as in the case of the buying and selling of land, prohibited by customary law — but also, traditions need to evolve. “To the men who say that the solutions will evolve within Naga society, I want to ask: why then are village councils all-male? Why have we never had a woman MLA? Why are there only two women contesting this time?” asks Dzuvichu.
But balancing feminism with tribal loyalties is a tough ask and nowhere are these fault-lines more exposed than in Mokokchung, the district where municipal elections with women’s reservation were to be first held, and where the opposition first began.
Mokokchung district is the home of the Ao tribe, a major Naga tribe which was the first to convert to Christianity and is perhaps the best educated. The district has Nagaland’s highest literacy rates — over 90 per cent for both men and women. But the Ao Senden, the allmale apex body of the Ao tribe, has been locked in a riveting battle with the Watsu Mungdang, its women’s organisation. The Watsu Mungdang has supported 33 per cent reservation for women and is part of the Joint Action Committee, while the Ao Senden is opposed to it. In 2011, relations between the two organisations hit an unprecedented low when the Ao Senden suspended its women’s organisation over differences.
Despite all of this, the women are clear that they do not want the customary Naga rural administrative set-up — the village council — replaced with the Indian panchayati raj system. “The customary laws and our customs are very good. What we want is greater involvement of women and changes within our own set-up,” says Temsusola, the first president of the Watsu Mungdang and a respected female elder of the Ao tribe. Mizoram, which also does not follow the panchayati raj system, has raised reservation to 50 per cent for its village councils, women leaders say.
